


Mon Préféré

by Evilicing



Category: Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychological Torture, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism, You Have Been Warned, lots of suitor sex here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-14 23:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15400017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evilicing/pseuds/Evilicing
Summary: Aloïs loves and accepts all of her, even the parts he can't possibly understand.





	Mon Préféré

* * *

 

_I._

* * *

 

It's certainly not the first time Aloïs has woken up blindfolded in Justine Florbelle's estate, but this time is somehow inherently different from the rest.

He's somewhere cold and damp. He feels a draft of musty air bite at his ankles before it travels further up his shivering body. This time he's completely naked, and that's _new—_ he covers himself self-consciously because he soon realizes he's not alone. The click of heeled footsteps can be heard nearby.

"Justine," Aloïs calls out. "Is that you...?"

Familiar, breathless laughter. "Who else would it be, my dearest?" She's closer, possibly within reach now. "I'm so glad you decided to wake up. I've been waiting for you."

"You have?" He tries to stand, careful to place his feet on something solid since he can't actually _see_ the floor. Justine lets out another laugh when she notices the unconscious way he shields his lower half with his hands.

"Why are you being so shy, _hm_?" She takes one of his hands in her own, leaving him half-vulnerable now. "I've seen you naked plenty of times, silly Aloïs."

"Ah... y-yes. Forgive me." He slowly removes his other hand; his cock feels dry and shrunken in from the cold air, and he can somehow feel her eyes on it.

She _has_ seen him naked plenty of times, it's true. He's only seen bits and pieces of Justine's bare skin, the most of it being the few times she's allowed him to see her in her thin nightclothes. The less she gives him, the more he wants her. Justine is careful to tease him like that. She never gives him more than he deserves, and Aloïs is grateful for that. Sometimes he thinks his punishment should be far more severe, because he's not yet perfected the art of pleasing her, his beautiful Justine.

Justine, his angel, his light. He doesn't even have to see her to know that she's positively radiant right now. A creature so beautiful that Aloïs isn't even sure who to credit for creating her. He would thank God for her, but her beauty is more than even a deity could hope to understand. 

Aloïs knows he barely even deserves to be in her presence at all, let alone hope to one day deserve her hand in marriage. So why then, he asks himself daily, does he still fight for her love? He can't understand what Justine sees in him. These days he hardly even behaves like a proper nobleman, but Justine says she prefers him this way.

"I have a proposition for you," she finally says, and Aloïs tenses when she lets go of his hand. "You _do_ still want me, don't you?" Her breath is warm, teasing the back of his neck. "Want to be inside of me, fill me with your... desire?"

So this is why Justine had stripped him naked... it's another one of _those_ games, isn't it? She does love to humiliate him, and it isn't altogether unpleasant. Begging Justine for mercy feels almost as good as the mercy itself.

Aloïs tries to stutter a coherent response. "W-Well, I've never said it quite so—" He stops himself. "— _E_ _l_ _oquently_ , but yes... I... do think about it on occasion." He's thinking about it _right now_ , too, because he feels the stirrings of it begin to form between his legs. "Does this mean you're finally ready to let me have you...?"

"That depends on you." Justine must have taken off her shoes, because her voice is already far away from him though he hadn't even heard her walk away. "And if you can _catch_ me. Come along, Aloïs... you'd better hurry!"

He stumbles for a moment before he tries to catch up with her. "J-Justine! Wait!"

But the only response he gets from her now is the trail of laughter that echoes throughout the basement cellar—he knows for a fact that's where they are now. Justine has only brought him here a couple of times in the past, but he'd recognize the smell of it anywhere. He wouldn't admit it to her, of course, but it's rather scary down here and he's never liked it.

Perhaps that's exactly why she's brought him here, to test his love. His commitment. 

Aloïs trips around, feeling along the cold walls until he finally makes it into what appears to be a new room. It's a start, at least. Where could Justine have gone...?

There's something soft at his feet when he's only a few steps inside. When he bends down to pick it up, he feels a light flush form over his cheeks when the realization hits him. 

It was some part of Justine's undergarments, to be sure. Was she stripping for him now...? The trail she was leaving for him only made him that much more excited to find her. 

He wants to peek through his blindfold to see it, but he wouldn't cheat. Not at one of Justine's games. He respects her far too much for that. Instead he presses the fabric of her knickers to his face, inhales her scent. If he uses his imagination he can almost taste her, but he won't allow himself to be so indecent. What a sight he must be right now! A blindfolded man standing completely in the buff, sniffing shamelessly at a woman's drawers... he can only hope Justine isn't still around to see such behavior.

There's even more clothing left in her wake now as Aloïs attempts to follow. He finds her stockings and garter ribbons, even a petticoat or two as he searches the next room over. He tries not to think about how bare she is underneath her skirt now. Her legs—along with all the forbidden flesh in between them—must surely be as cold as ice; Aloïs would know, as naked as he is himself. He'd be more than happy to warm her up, and the mere notion of doing so sends chills of pleasure up his spine. Once again, he curses himself for having such impure thoughts at her expense.

"Justine?" he calls to her, over and over again, but she never answers him. 

Were it not for her unusual trail of unmentionables, he'd almost think that he's all by himself down here. There's something eerie about the empty silence that envelopes him.

He eventually stumbles upon her bodice, a thick, taffeta material that crinkles in his hands. He can't remember what color she'd been wearing earlier today, but this is definitely the same one if he goes by material alone. In the same room was her discarded corset, and then her chemise... good _God_ , Justine, Aloïs thinks to himself. How exposed and risquéshe must look right now...!

All that's left to find now is her skirt and crinoline, though he isn't sure if he can bear the implications of what came along with finding them. At this rate, when he finally catches up to her, she'll be completely in the nude when he takes off his blindfold.

The thought alone is enough to make him realize he's as hard as stone by now, decency be damned. Why deny it any longer, after all? Surely this is what she wanted from the very beginning, for him to prove how much he truly _wants_ her?

The proof is right here, unbearably stiff between his legs. His body has always been ready for her.

Aloïs finds himself walking down some sort of branching hallway. Justine had to be close now. His heavy breathing should be more than enough to alert her of his presence, but he calls out her name one more time to be sure. He doesn't wish to startle her, considering the circumstances.

He only hopes she's as ready for him as he is for her. There's no more signs of clothing anywhere on the ground, only a thick, heavy door in front of him.

Justine was surely inside. He'd passed her test, and now she'll congratulate him, Aloïs hopes, with something he's wanted for a very long time now. 

He can only pray that he truly has earned it, in Justine's eyes, to finally consummate their love once and for all.

Why else would she have went through all the trouble to prepare this exciting game for him?

He starts to open the door, but there's a strange, shuffling sound behind him. Footsteps? Is Justine still toying with him, perhaps? He can't be sure, but at that time, something hard hits him on the back of the head. Before he can turn around or cry out for help, his knees buckle beneath him and everything suddenly begins to fade.

The last thing he remembers is imagining how beautiful Justine will be when she's finally stark-naked before him.

 

This time when Aloïs opens his eyes, his vision has thankfully returned—no blindfold, just the pounding of his headache as it throbs against the floor. Nothing else has changed. He's still naked and shivering.

Where was he...?

He soon realizes he's in some kind of cell. Long metal bars stop him from moving further into the main room, but when he stands up he can see something stirring in the center.

Aloïs lets out a gasp when he sees his Justine sitting upon a table. He tries his hardest not to stare, but how can he _not_ when she's wearing... nothing but her skirt? He can see her bare breasts rise and fall with the swell of her breathing, natural and self-possessed, like she always is. Regal. Proud. She doesn't bother to cover herself in the slightest, even when another man unexpectedly comes into sight. It's a tall, ox of a man who is just as naked as Aloïs.

He suddenly wishes he was blindfolded again. He can't bear to see what comes next.

Why was this happening...?

The man doesn't hesitate to grab Justine by the waist and slam his hips against her. He kisses her roughly, like a wild animal asserting its dominance. Surprisingly, Justine doesn't seem to mind it. She doesn't even fight back against him. Does she... _know_ this man? And does she know Aloïs is here, forced to watch her being defiled right in front of his very eyes?

He's frozen in place. His heart almost stops when the man lifts up Justine's legs, pulls back her skirt enough that he can grasp her ankles and lift them higher. With one hand he balances himself over her on the table, and the other hand... well, Aloïs might not have much experience when it came to the specifics of sexual relations, but he isn't stupid. He knows the man must be touching Justine under her skirt. 

 _Stop!_ Aloïs wants to shout, but his words are stuck tight in his throat. Were it someone other than Justine and another man, he might secretly enjoy peeping at such a naughty display. He's certainly daydreamed about it before. He might touch himself, pretend _he_ was the other man... but this time is nothing like that. This time only makes him want to jab out his eyes.

Though unspoken, he unwittingly assumed Justine had been saving herself for him alone, but now...

What was soon to befall her innocence?

The man is closing in on Justine, and her skirt rustles loudly when he finally lowers all of his weight onto her in one swift movement.

" _Ah_...!" Justine wraps her naked legs around him, letting out a soft whimper that surely means he’d entered her. “You’ve never been one for foreplay, have you, Basile?"

Basile? Aloïs doesn't know anyone by that name, nor has Justine ever mentioned him. 

The man groans. “Why should I, when you’re always so wet for me?"

“You _sure_ know how to treat a lady," Justine quips, though there's fondness somewhere in her voice. Her sarcasm has always been one of her charms.

The man responds by bucking into her so hard that she lets out a loud, unexpected yelp underneath him, and he smiles at that. "You're a filthy harlot is what you are."

“H-How dare you," she moans, but Aloïs gets the notion she's not even remotely offended. Her contented whimpers are testament to that.

“What else am I to call you, considering when I came down here you were walking about with your tits out?” He gropes harshly at one of them to prove his point, teasing it with the entirety of his palm. “What if one of your servants had seen you?”

“If I’m such a harlot, what does that make _you_ for fucking me? A regular customer?”

The smugness in Justine's eyes is hardly erased by the vulnerable moans that accompany it. She’s never been one to go down without the last word.

The man suddenly strikes her hard in the face, and Aloïs feels his blood boil even hotter.

“Don’t you dare…! Justine!" He can't possibly keep quiet now. This has gone too far already. He violently shakes at the bars of his cell door, though it’s barely audible over the haunting sound of the man continuously pounding into her, skin against skin.

But Justine only laughs when the man hits her once more. "Again, Basile... again!"

He complies, but not before locking eyes with Aloïs in his cell. They're both quite aware of the glaring, arrogant way he's still sheathed deep inside Justine, and he must know by now that Aloïs hates him for it.

“She'll be lucky if she can even walk tomorrow, so you'd better just pipe down in there and enjoy the show.” He lets out a snort before bringing his eyes back to Justine. "Your pet's awake. Do something about him."

Pet? Is that what Justine had called him...? Aloïs grips harder at the bars that separate him from the horrible scene.

Justine finally looks over at his cell, though she's barely able to speak—the man’s hands are tight around her neck as he continues to thrust into her with all of his might.

“I'm perfectly fine, _mon chéri_ ," she chokes at Aloïs, smiling. So she does know he's here. “Please don't be upset with me, I arranged all of this just for _you_ …"

She's interrupted when the man forces her into a rather unexpectedly passionate kiss, so different from the way he's treated her up until just moments before.

Does he actually _care_ for Justine…? It was impossible for Aloïs to believe. Even if Justine wished it, he could never raise a hand against her like this Basile had done...! This kind of behavior couldn’t possibly be more than just the impulsiveness of a moment's lust, but the way the man looks at her…

Aloïs knows that look all too well, because he knows he's looking at Justine the exact same way right now. It's the way he always looks at her.

No. It doesn’t matter how much this horrible, obscene man loves his Justine, because Aloïs knows that he will never be able to rival his own devotion to her. Right now is surely proof of that.

Unable to look away, Aloïs has no choice but to drop to his knees and continue observing them. It doesn't matter that he wants to turn away and cover his ears. If his Justine had arranged this debauchery just for him… it’d be unspeakable to deny her the audience she wishes him to be.

At the very least, perhaps he can learn a lesson or two from the way Basile mounts her so effortlessly, though it's hardly in Aloïs' well-bred nature to be so savage.

Still, he can’t help the tears that burn down his cheeks. In his mind he pretends that instead of hearing her scream “Basile, Basile!” over and over, she’s calling out his name instead. It helps, somewhat, with the pain.

One day, Aloïs knows Justine will finally be his, a simple fact that continues to keep him sane, day after day.

When the man is done with her, he leaves, and Justine joins Aloïs in the cell. She cradles him in her arms like a child, and presses his face against her freshly bruised breasts. She still smells vaguely of Basile's musk, but when she holds him close against her heart, Aloïs has never felt so loved in his entire life.

That night, when he returns home he drinks himself numb. He makes a fresh new cut on himself, deeper than any of the telling scars beside it. He can only hope that tomorrow when he shows it to Justine she'll kiss it and reward him with her beautiful smile. 

It's all he needs... just a smile. He doesn't need to claim or mark her body to know that she's _his_ , not like Basile does. His love transcends any carnal feelings he has for her, and today, Justine had proved to him just that.

Justine is always teaching him something new.

 

* * *

  _II._

* * *

 

When Justine invites him to stay the night with her, Aloïs can hardly contain his excitement. He knows a cultured gentleman like himself should never be caught in the same bed as his lover so soon before marriage, but with Justine... 

Everything always felt right. Rules and etiquette often mattered little to her, or at least when they were alone, behind locked doors where no one could see them. What did it truly matter what they did when society wasn't around to judge them? 

Or at least, that's what Justine had always said.

As soon as he arrives, he's greeted by Justine's maid—Clarice, was it?—with something akin to a blush smeared across her timid little face. Mademoiselle Justine, she tells him, is waiting for him in her personal chambers. She seems to remember that Aloïs has been to her bedroom before, because she makes no movement to imply she's going to escort him any further. Perhaps it's for the best, Aloïs tells himself. He knows that it doesn't really matter what the housemaid thinks of him, but the peculiar way she's acting makes _him_ start to feel embarrassed, too. He's been raised instilled with the proper principles of his family that reputation, first and foremost, is the first rule of success. He almost stops to assure Clarice that he's never engaged in anything improper with her lady, but he quickly stops himself, thanks her, and uncomfortably goes on his way. 

He's so excited to see Justine, albeit nervous like he always is, but everything unpleasant melts away when he finally sees her. He presses a chaste kiss to the back of her hand, and in return she gives him a glass of something she's already graciously poured for him. She says it's wine, and Aloïs doesn't argue with her. He knows there's something much stronger than wine in this mixture, but he gulps it down just to please her.

And then another glass. And another.

He's drunk so much wine that Aloïs can feel its heat coursing through his veins, throbbing in his chest and head, and pulsing most favorably between his legs.

Justine’s neck is so soft and sweet under his wandering lips, so fragile that he feels he might break her if he isn't gentle. Even though he knows Justine prefers it when men are rough with her—Basile has always been proof of that—his touch is nothing if not reverent.

How he worships her. Justine has become everything to him, even his religion.

Aloïs runs his fingers all over her body as he kisses her, groping every part of her that isn’t currently being stolen by Malo on the opposite side.

...For a moment, he forgets Justine is sandwiched snugly between them. He groans when he accidentally brushes his fingers against Malo’s hand instead of hers.

It's the first time he's ever met the young man, but Justine has already told him _much_ about Malo de Vigny in the past few weeks. He's a talented musician, apparently quite famous, and Justine's newest... friend.

There are far too many reasons why Aloïs doesn't like him. One of them, specifically, is that rumors in town have already named Malo as Justine Florbelle's newest lover. If that was the case, which Aloïs knows it most certainly is _not_...

Why then had Justine invited both of them to her bed tonight? No wonder Clarice had seemed especially perturbed when he arrived here. He can't begin to understand it, though he has a vague idea that he doesn't like to entertain.

Is this truly what Justine wants…? To have two men, at the same time? Perhaps, instead, she wants this strange new friend of hers to watch Aloïs finally make love to her, just like she sometimes makes Aloïs do when she lets Basile take her in front of him. He wouldn't be opposed to it, but...

…No, Aloïs knows his fantasy isn't likely to come true tonight. There's only one thing Malo's presence here could mean, and it makes his stomach twist into horrible knots inside him.

He knows Justine means for him to share her with yet another man.

She smiles knowingly when she sees his pitiful expression, as if she knows he's already pondering it.

Can she see the way his heart breaks for her...?

“You know I'll do anything to make you happy, my Justine," Malo's teasing voice suddenly fills his ears, and when he looks over at Aloïs, he bares his teeth with a devious smile. “Or _anyone_.”

Justine rewards Malo with a slow, passionate kiss.

“A-As would I,” Aloïs adds defiantly. He presses his body against Justine’s, trying to steal back her attention from Malo. She turns back to him and lets him explore her lips for a moment before pulling away completely.

“Do you truly mean that?” she asks him, mock-innocent with a smile he knows too well. She was testing _him_ now.

Aloïs nods, and against his better judgment, leans over her to grab Malo by the collar; he’s not surprised when Malo forces their lips to meet, and in fact, he seems to have been looking forward to it. Malo’s kisses are terribly different from Justine’s—far too sloppy and erratic, and much less gentle. Malo presumes too much when he slips his tongue into Aloïs’ mouth to meet his own.

Offended, Aloïs starts to pull away from him, but… this is what Justine had wanted, hadn’t she? He can feel her breathing heavily underneath them, trying to lie further back into the mattress so that the two of them can reach each other more easily.

She surely isn't stopping them.

He doesn't like the idea of sharing Justine with this man tonight, but… if it meant he'd be able to finally have her, and that she was happy, then it was a sacrifice worth making. Justine has always been the adventurous type, and Aloïs loves everything about her—even her strange sexual preferences, and the unusual games she's always making him play with her. He accepts all of her, even the parts he can't possibly understand.

Like right now, when she watches with curious amusement as Malo continues to ravage his lips.

How he wishes this was Justine he was kissing so passionately. If he closes his eyes tight enough, perhaps he can imagine Malo _is_ her—he isn't unlike a woman, in some ways, Aloïs thinks. Malo's lovely auburn hair is long and silky like a woman’s, and there’s even something feminine in the way the various little freckles are splayed all over his delicate face, now that Aloïs can see them up close. He's quite petite, too, and his eyelashes are so long that they almost tickle him, much like Justine’s when they hold each other close. 

But no—Malo ruins the image before he can convince himself otherwise. Aloïs hears the rustle of buttons and clothing, and then a strange, repetitive sound that's coming from between them.

It's hard to imagine Malo as anything other than a man now, because he's already pulled out his cock from his trousers. Not only is he stroking himself lewdly in front of them, but he’s also much larger than Aloïs… both of which irritate him in a way he can't explain with words.

Aloïs isn’t sure he can do this.  
  
He pulls away from Malo’s lips, just enough so that he can steal a quick look at Justine. She can clearly see the concern in his face, but she's smiling, almost intoxicatingly so, and nods him further.

Perhaps he has this all wrong.

Did she want him to…? With _Malo_...?

Malo’s found the small oil vial in the bedside table by now, and Aloïs tenses when he hears the fluid now coating Malo’s throbbing prick. It’s such a horrible, sloppy noise as he continues stroking himself with the oil.

Aloïs looks to Justine’s calm face once more, but for what, he isn’t sure. Mercy? Permission?

What does she want him to do next?

“May I...?" he asks, hesitantly reaching for Malo's hand, still busy pleasuring himself. Surely Justine will be impressed at his willingness to cooperate, his aim to please her.

But instead, Malo and Justine both let out quiet, patronizing laughter at his request.

“There's no need for such manners tonight, _mon_ _be_ _au garçon_ ,” Malo assures him, his voice a seductive purr against his ear. "Touch me."

Aloïs swallows nervously as he wraps his fingers around the slick cock and begins to pump it slowly in his fist. Malo is still sporting that same toothy, victorious grin, and it sends chills up Aloïs’ spine. Malo lets out a dramatic moan of pleasure that also seems to please Justine; she sits up and relocates over to the foot of the bed, still watching as the two suitors share another wet kiss in her honor.

Aloïs pales when Malo begins to fumble with the fastenings on _his_ trousers. He doesn’t want Malo to touch him… not now, not ever. But the more he resists, the more excited Malo becomes and soon enough, Malo has freed Aloïs from the confine of his pants.

Unlike the two of them—and much to Aloïs' regret—Justine is still fully clothed.

She never meant to sleep with him tonight to begin with, did she?

“Don’t worry, my love… Malo is quite good with his fingers.” Justine winks at him. "I should know. I've never missed a performance."

Aloïs frowns. He can't help the nervous blush he feels as they both stare at him, waiting for his reaction. It doesn't help that his cock is out on display now, soft and unresponsive. Malo is the first to take notice. He doesn't wait for Aloïs' permission as he takes him roughly into his mouth.

Justine has already told Aloïs once before that there are hushed rumors of Malo being just as fond of men as he is of women. There’s no doubt in his mind now, because Malo is enjoying this far more than he should. It's definitely not the first time he's put his mouth on another man’s cock, Aloïs is certain of that much. Every lick sends him into a brief, stifling moment of pleasure that stiffens him in a way Aloïs hadn't expected. His fingers move skillfully in unison with his mouth.  
  
He’s looking over Aloïs' body hungrily now, licking his lips as he removes the last few stitches of their clothing. Aloïs doesn’t like it, but they’re both completely nude now. There's no turning back.

“Tell him what you want, Aloïs,” breathes Justine in a small, innocent voice. Her touch brings him back from the pleasure he’s so close to giving himself to.

He knows he should be ashamed of the words about to come out of his mouth, but when he looks at Justine, his insecurities melt away. “I want you… inside of me... Malo." That should be enough to make her happy with him, shouldn't it? He tries to smile at her when Malo roughly turns him over onto his stomach.

He’s still looking at Justine when the thickness of Malo's oiled cock ruts into him with little warning; were it not for Justine watching so intently, he'd have already stopped this nonsense before it even started. He’d wanted Justine to be his first, but to lose his virginity to another man…? If his father ever found out about this, he'd be sure to never speak with him again. He'd be out on the streets, if not locked away forever. His family already hates him enough for being involved with Justine.

Aloïs tries to ignore the tears that well up inside him.

The slender violinist is much stronger than he looks, because each of his thrusts make Aloïs cry out in pain. His stamina is almost impossible to keep up with. As Malo pumps faster and faster into him, Aloïs begins to moan in spite of himself. He finds that when he tries to relax and accept the pain, it helps somehow lessen the shock of it all. The discomfort slowly changes to small ripples of pleasure when he feels his insides actually being stretched further by the movements.

On instinct, Aloïs reaches for his own cock to focus on anything but Malo’s relentless thrusting. He imagines Justine is touching him, tries to remember what it feels like to have her soft hand wrapped tightly around his length. It’s been too long since she's touched him so intimately—lately, she seems to only be interested in teasing him.

“You seem to be enjoying this far too much, my dear,” Justine coos into his ear; he hadn't noticed that she'd crawled over to him. “I think I preferred it when you were struggling.”

He wants to deny it all completely, but he knows he has to please her tonight, prove his love once and for all. His pain has always pleased her, and that in turn, is enough to please _him_.

He immediately stops touching himself.

“F-Fuck me harder, Malo,” Aloïs hears himself say. “Make me scream… make me scream, for Justine's sake!"

Malo is more than happy to oblige.

“So obedient," he says from behind him, nearly out of breath as he takes a fistful of Aloïs' backside into his grip. “Such a pretty ass, too... I wish you were _my_ toy, but I doubt Justine would part with you so easily.”

Toy? The words make everything stop around him. Is that what Justine really thinks of him? Had she told Malo that? Aloïs looks over to find Justine’s eyes, and she takes the moment to reassure him—her fingers are warm as they trace over his jaw.

“Relax, Aloïs. I only want you to enjoy this.” Her caring touch is enough to get him through anything, truly. The glare she gives Malo is much less gentle. "Less talking, Malo, more _fucking_."

It's perfectly clear how much Justine truly cares for Aloïs. She'd even stood up for him... why had he ever doubted her to begin with? He's overthinking things, like usual. Malo is simply jealous of their love... that’s what it is, he assures himself. He's trying to break him, trying to make him hate Justine. 

How utterly ridiculous. If only Malo knew that such a feat was impossible, because he could never, ever hate Justine.

Thankfully, it's not long before he feels that Malo is close to reaching his limit. He can't take much more.

“How do you want me to finish, Justine?” Malo’s voice is trembling now. “Do you want me to fill him?”

“That will do fine, yes.”

"As you wish, _ma belle_.” His ministrations begin to slow down momentarily, and it’s not long before he comes to a complete stop inside him. His orgasm is surprisingly quiet, but Aloïs can feel the warmth as it fills him.

He feels numb all over when Malo pulls out, collapsing lazily onto the bed beside him. It’s… finally over. Perhaps he can forget this ever happened, and Justine will soon take him into her arms and reward him with her love.

But instead, she turns to Malo.

“Aloïs has been such a good boy tonight… let's not leave him _hanging_ , Malo."

Aloïs squirms against the bedsheets, wishing he could burrow inside and disappear. He doesn’t want a release if _Justine_ isn’t the one giving it to him. But as always, Malo is quick to follow Justine's orders. Before Aloïs can stop him, he's sucking him once again. 

Justine is surely watching the way Aloïs twitches and groans as he tries to resist the immense pleasure he's feeling. At least she’s still enjoying this. Malo’s tongue licks at his tip painfully slow, and it only makes Aloïs involuntarily thrust against his mouth.

“Are you close yet?” Justine whispers impatiently into his ear, and he nearly loses control from just her sweet voice alone.

“Y-Yes, my love…" He's losing himself—whether to the wine or the pleasure, he isn't sure. He no longer cares that he’s petting his fingers helplessly through Malo’s hair, whispering his name repeatedly under his breath. He needs this now more than ever, and as the pressure between his legs rises, he's finally allowed release.

“You taste so sweet," Malo says, and Aloïs' cock makes a popping sound as he pulls it from his mouth. Aloïs blushes as the man seductively licks the last bit of his seed off his pretty lips. Malo climbs back up his body to kiss him once more, but Aloïs quickly turns away.

Now that they’re done and both of them have been released, he can hardly look Malo in the face. He’s so ashamed of what's just transpired between them, and yet Malo is clearly so satisfied—proud, even.

But what about Justine?

“Are _you_ … happy, my sweet?” Aloïs asks, hungry for her approval as she slowly lies down beside him.

She presses a kiss to his lips. “Very happy, you've done well to please me tonight."

Aloïs realizes she’s back in between them, and that means she must be touching Malo again like this, too. He’s too tired to stop them, even though he knows he hears them exchanging kisses again... he hopes Justine can still taste the remnants of him on Malo’s lips.

Everything is spinning. He can still hear them giggling and whispering beside him. It's more apparent than ever now that the intoxication has completely taken over. 

He hears Justine sigh. "Are you sure you still love me, Malo? Even though I don't have a prick for you to play with?"

Malo's words are almost too quiet to hear because his face is buried in her neck. "Of course I do... you have something _else_ that I love." His voice is a whisper now, in between kisses and drunken laughter. "Let me taste your cunt, Justine."

"You're such a pervert." She slaps him playfully before she considers it. "Finish your wine, and perhaps I'll let you have a little taste... if you insist."

The bed shifts as Malo stands to reach for his glass, downing the rest of his wine in an instant. He doesn't waste any time as he returns to the bed and disappears somewhere under the folds of Justine's dress. Aloïs wishes he could ignore the way she fidgets and moans shortly after Malo begins, but there's nothing he can do now. The wine has already hit him too hard.

Maybe soon, Malo will be the next victim to the wine, just like him. Aloïs can hardly wait until Malo is too drunk and paralyzed to move, unable to pleasure Justine any longer.

Aloïs aches to grab Justine and pin her down and take her— _taste_ her like Malo does, but for now...

He’s not sure what happens after that, because he drifts off into a deep sleep.

 

It's early, but still dark outside when Aloïs hears it.

He wakes up to the unpleasant sounds of Malo heaving and convulsing beside him. It takes him a moment to realize how ill the man is; his skin is deathly pallid and feverish, visible even in the dim candlelight. Justine sits nearby, stroking away his hair from his face. She's holding a small, copper bucket at his chest.

Malo finally vomits something up, but it appears to only make him sicker once he expels it. It was too late. The man was poisoned, though he was likely too sick to even realize it.

"I'm so sorry," he croaks, so lifeless he can hardly keep his eyes open. His naked body shivers as he speaks. "I am... so ashamed for you to see me like this, Justine."

"Nonsense," Justine says. "It's only a hangover, we all have them sooner or later. It'll surely pass." She smiles at him like a mother would her sick, pitiful child.

"Yes... I'll feel much better soon, I'm sure of it. I must have drank too much wine..."

Aloïs watches as Justine reaches for a bottle of something on the table beside her. 

"Here, this medicine will help a great deal with the nausea." As she pours it for him, Aloïs can see that it's not medicine at all, but a bottle of absinthe. She winks at him when she realizes he's awake now, and watching them. "My poor Malo... we want you to be healthy for your concerto tonight, don't we?"

"Yes... thank you for taking care of me... _ma chérie_ _._ "

She has to help Malo bring the cup to his lips. Somehow, he guzzles down the absinthe completely, every last drop. He doesn't even flinch. He doesn't question it.

Did Justine mean to make the poor man even sicker? Aloïs doesn't understand her motives, but Justine stands to her feet and holds out a hand to him before he can think more on it.

"Come along, Aloïs. Get yourself dressed properly. Clarice will have breakfast ready for us shortly." He takes her hand, ensnared by her smile. "Malo needs his rest if he hopes to be ready for his performance tonight."

Alois nods obediently. "Of course, my love." He looks one last time at Malo, who seems to be limp and unresponsive now. Aloïs himself still feels a bit woozy from the previous night, but at least he's far better off than Malo.

He's still sore, too, but Justine easily helps him to his feet. The pain isn't so unbearable that he can't ignore it.

All that matters now is that Justine had chosen _him_ to sit at her table this morning... he didn't deserve her, surely, but he'd do whatever it takes to keep her happy. He'd keep all of her secrets, and her love, close to his heart. Whatever she'd done to Malo was none of his business, but the fact she trusted him enough to keep quiet on the matter spoke volumes.

Justine watches in silence as he dresses. They walk hand in hand through the long halls of her manor, and for a moment, Aloïs is able to forget that Malo had ever even existed to begin with.

It's only him and Justine now.

 

* * *

  _I_ _II._

* * *

 

He isn’t blindfolded this time, but for some reason he can’t quite see anything around him. Everything is dark. It doesn’t matter. He can feel Justine stripping him, placing searing kisses down his stomach as she pulls off the last of his clothing.

“Are you ready, my love?” she asks, coming back up to peck at his lips.

Aloïs smiles. She’s ready for him, straddling him tightly between her thighs. Nothing will stop him from finally having her.

“I’ve been ready for so long, Justine…” he says. “… _please_ , I need to be inside you…!”

“You’ve earned it,” she whispers, and she nibbles at his earlobe as she lowers herself onto him.

How he _loves_ her… Justine feels even better than he’d ever dreamed, better than any time he’s ever fantasized about making love to her. He’s careful not to buck into her roughly like he wants to do. Instead he waits until she’s fully adjusted to him inside her. He lets her go at her own pace at first, completely in control as she bounces on top of him.

How he wishes he could see how beautiful she must look right now…

He’s seen her face when she gets fucked by Basile and Malo, so why can’t he see it now that it's finally his turn…? 

A part of him feels so indescribably numb, like he’s been drugged or had too much laudanum too fast, but in the end it only intensifies the pleasure he feels. He feels around to touch her, carefully squeezing at every piece of her that he can possibly reach. He wants to flip her over and mount her properly, but he realizes his body is too weak to move.

“Justine,” he moans, “why can’t I move? I want to make you feel good…”

He’s pleased to hear her let out a cry of pleasure when he musters the strength to at least thrust upwards and match her movements.

“Don’t wear yourself out, my dear,” she says, and he can feel her breath hot against his face. She stops moving, if only to kiss him. “You’re much too weak right now, do you remember the drink I gave you before you went to bed last night?”

Aloïs tries to remember. “I think so, what was it again…?”

“Shh, don't concern yourself with that right now." She clenches around his arousal, and the distraction is more than enough to remind him. "I want you to take me… I’m yours now, remember?”

He can’t help but smile at the thought. “Yes… and I’m _yours_ … please, Justine… more…”

The faster she goes, the dizzier Aloïs becomes. He doesn’t need anything else in the world but to hear her calling out his name, right now in this moment. She's moaning all because of him now... not Basile, not Malo, but _him_ alone. He feels everything around him disappear when he finally finishes inside her. He dreads the moment that her warmth disappears and she’s no longer on top of him.

That moment finally comes, and he feels alone. Numb. Gasping.

“Justine…?” He feels around for her, realizing he's only grasping helplessly at the empty air. He’s slowly starting to remember why everything is so dark in here. “Justine! Justine, where are you, my love?”

“Right here, silly.” Thankfully, she sits back down on the bed with him. He can't see her, but he feels her fingers comb through his hair. She always does her best to care for him. “I’m surely going to miss those lovely eyes of yours… I do hope you can forgive me for taking them away.”

Aloïs pulls her close against his chest. He’s so cold now, even with her body heat against him. “Of course, you needn’t worry about me.” He can't remember a time he's ever been so happy, nestled so closely against his Justine. “After all, it’s my own fault I lost them... I should have known your beauty would eventually blind me, my love.”

Justine lets out a pleased chuckle. “And that’s why,” she says softly, staring into the empty holes that were once his eyes, “you’ll _always_ be my favorite.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys are okay with some fresh-meat around here :) I'm new to the fandom... I'm sadly just now getting into Amnesia for the first time (many years later, yes, I know), so allow me to drop this here! I actually wrote this unholy mess for my best friend who got me into the games and wanted to see more about the Suitors, so here ya go, H. <3 I'm in the process of finishing up the first game, and I can already feel myself wanting to write about Daniel, so you may see more of me in the future.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and please let me know if I need to tag anything else/incorrectly tagged something. I'll be more than happy to fix it!


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